My place

I am very private.
It takes time for me to trust people.
My home is my safe place, my haven,
Where I hoard books and stacks of fabric.
We rarely invite anyone. If not ever.
Two or three at a time. At best.
I am wary of people invading my personal space.

It could not have crossed my mind that I needed to warn guests about being reasonable, to behave appropriately. How could it? I'd never allow myself to lose control. We are not teens anymore. We know ourselves. Don't we? What we can or cannot do. What is proper and what is not.
So I do not take well people giving up on politeness, on basic courtesy under my roof. I do not take well people trespassing in rooms they were not invited in.
I despise hubris as much as I despise lack of control.
I took a gamble and learnt my lesson. No more guests.
Apologies should be given in person, not through their beloved, and they should be given to the host, not to the assembly. Saying sorry for the state I was in is not the same as admitting one's fault.
I love your dearly and I find myself heartbroken. His behaviour was rude. To me and to my guests.
I cannot fathom why he did what he did, for it is his actions I blame him for. He was the eldest and should have known. I find him no excuse.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. In this house we cherish intellect, cunning and decency.